


stain your skin crimson, brother

by craple



Category: Blood Lad
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Incest, Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 20:15:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craple/pseuds/craple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blood Lad. "She imagines herself picking at each of them with blood-stained fingers; dirt-caked nails digging under the soft pale eyelids to see if he still bleeds the way she does." — Neru/Beru.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stain your skin crimson, brother

**Author's Note:**

> So this is another study into the Hydra siblings' relationship, because it is just _that_ complicated. The sad lack of Blood Lad fanfiction in this site, or _any_ other sites is ridiculous. I mean, the manga is like so awesome I _actually_ got my ass working on a story, short as it is. Need me some Staz/Fuyumi but my mind works in a mysterious way. Can't get the picture of Neru/Beru fucking out of my head so yeah.

The fluttering of thick blonde lashes that are not her own against the tears-streaked skin of her cheeks is tempting. She imagines herself picking at each of them with blood-stained fingers; dirt-caked nails digging under the soft pale eyelids to see if he still _bleeds_ the way she does. But then again, that is just one of her fantasies never to be fulfilled, as he is the obedient little brother she loves, protects, _wants_ in various ways more than one.

Perhaps he will obey her as he does to Mother. It is impossible for him not to question her, unlike the way everything works around Mother, because he is her brother. They fight and curse using all the damned languages of Hell and scramble to each other once the tension is gone, holding each other close like it is the end of the world because that is how they are meant to be. At the end of the day though, she knows that he _will_ fulfill her wishes.

Like now, maybe. It is not the end of the day yet – as it _is_ in fact, _Hell_ , a place where souls are tortured in cycles, where this thing they have, this thing living _humans_ disgustingly proclaimed as _incest_ and _abomination_ when it is so much more – but Nel tends to her wish already.

He complies with the light touch of her fingers skimming down his ribs, leans back and swallows at the added pressure of her thighs straddling his hips because with them, it always feels like their first time all over again. Even when he flips them around, too stressed beneath the feather-light weight of her palms above his waist, too _tortured_ by the slow rhythm she sets upon descending down his cock, the heat she offers and the tightness that encases the length of him, Bel does not protest as it is a part of what they had, and shall done for many times more than even _they_ can count.

Nel has never been patient or gentle. Neither motions are necessary in Hell, or gravely needed during their rituals, but he does interlace his fingers with hers as he fucks into her cunt roughly, restlessly, oh so _deliciously_ deep inside, which makes this simple act of interlacing their fingers together feel infinitely more _intimate_ than before, than it ever has. She drags her nails across the thin pulse beneath the delicate skin of his wrist, thumb rubbing against his palm and he grounds his pelvis in an impossible angle that makes her see _stars_ and _oh_.

“For me, together, _brother_.” Bel chokes out, crushes their lips in a tight searing kiss and Nel complies like a good obedient little brother he is.


End file.
